Dec 03 2009
My Ghosts
They gather and
scratch at the edges
and doors of my dreams
Slipping through the
cracks and crevices
blocking the light
bringing the dark
and the Doubts
And I comfort
the useless,
worthless
frightened me
Tell her to
be brave –
that it’s just a
dream
And dreams can
be chased
by the light of
day.
But she doesn’t
believe me
and keeps a
watchful eye
on the Moon.
Copyright 2009
